When Thou Goest Forth to War
by Pauline Dorchester
Summary: August, September & October 1939: War breaks out. The Stewart family joins the fray.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer** : Sam, her father, her Uncle Aubrey, and (as far I can tell) the village of Leavenham, Hampshire, are all the creations of Anthony Horowitz; I have given a name and (I hope) a personality to Sam's mother, a character referred to in canon but never seen or named. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit sought.

Gil Shalos1's wonderful stories on this site inspired me to make Sam a diarist.

The extensive use of italics and underlining in this story is intended to simulate handwriting. The gray line indicates that the date has changed. This revised version contains bits of _Downton Abbey_ and _Home Fires_ crossover for your amusement.

* * *

Thursday 31 August

 _Twenty years old today. Beautiful gift from Aunt Amy and Uncle Michael (they are here 'til Saturday! Huzzah!) – diary for 1940, bound in green Morocco, with my name on the front! Have therefore resolved to make real effort at_ _keeping __a __diary_ _, i.e. not simply thinking about what I_ _would_ _write if I_ _did_ _keep a diary. Uncle Aubrey telephoned; lovely cards from other uncles. Had nice letter from Laura B. on Tuesday._

 _Later – Uncle spent all afternoon until tea talking with Dad in D's study. Politics, I think. D very gloomy afterwards, though Uncle in high spirits. Plan for tea in garden scotched due to rain, but very nice anyway, though Mother in bad temper. Doesn't much like Aunt A being here, I think._

 _Later still – Heard on wireless that blackout regulations to be imposed effective_ _tomorrow_ _\- as in last war, Aunt A says. Mother says we still have blackout curtains from then, I am to bring them down from the attic and hang them. Also, Germany claiming Polish attack on wireless station, place called Glyvits._

* * *

Friday 1 September

 _Just heard on wireless Germany invaded Poland this morning. Nothing in papers - probably happened too long after midnight. Will go to village for afternoon paper. But_ _Times_ _has short item about_ _Gleiwitz_ _wireless station. Germany claims Polish spies forced their way in and sent out signal for Poland to attack Germany. Uncle_ _most_ _upset, says is undoubtedly German trick and we should never have let them re-arm after last war._

 _Almost lunch time – Aunt and Uncle leaving today after lunch rather than tomorrow as planned._

 _Evening – Unable to go to village due to Mother needing hot compress for sciatica. Wireless to rescue (even though Dad dislikes) – invasion by ground troops just before dawn today, followed by air raids on cities. Absolutely_ _not_ _provoked. We are mobilising along with France; have promised in past to support Poland and will fulfill promise. Dad organizing Vesper service for tomorrow eve.; can hear him on telephone now, asking people in parish to spread the word._

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Braithfield Farm  
Fullerton Road  
Red Rice, Andover, Hampshire

 _1 September 1939_

 _My dear Sam,_

 _We have arrived at home within the past hour, and I will write a bread-and-butter letter to your parents momentarily; but before I forget_ _yet __again_ _, I must take a moment to share with you the enclosed clippings from_ _The __Times_ _that I have been saving for you (that I neglected to bring these with me to Lyminster simply beggars belief!), and to share with you a few thoughts that presented themselves during the trip back to Hampshire._

 _The situation in which we now find ourselves is without question very grave indeed; but my prayer for_ _you_ _is that it will present you with an opportunity to create some place for yourself in the world,_ _and_ _that you will be able to grasp that opportunity. I am increasingly convinced, and concerned, that this will never happen if you remain at home in Lyminster._

 _We are all bound by the Lord's commandment to honour our parents, and we owe them duty while they are alive. But the smallness, the isolation and the far-flung character of you father's parish, combined with the physical toll that seems to have been exacted from your mother in bringing you, her only surviving child, into the world, have combined to place you in great danger of remaining forever a shadow of what you might become._ _No __one __at __all_ _is to blame for this, but it is a problem that must be addressed. If we go to war, as now seems inevitable, you may be able to broaden your horizons – but_ _only_ _if you can wrench yourself free of your home._

 _You undoubtedly recall that my stepdaughter, Laura, joined the Auxiliary Territorial Services last year and was assigned in January to one of the companies which were made part of the new Women's Auxiliary Air Force in July. This new W.A.A.F. will be looking for drivers, as you will see from the newer of the two articles, which was published on 3 July. It does appear that only a few companies were actively seeking recruits at that time, but matters may have changed since then, or may do so soon, and I would encourage you to enquire._

 _As you will see from the older clipping, which I blush to say goes back to 13 February, a new service organisation has been formed specifically for women who know how to drive! Aren't you even_ _more_ _glad now that I taught you? Various sorts of related training will be offered, including first aid, which I think you would be_ _very_ _good at, as I have_ _never_ _known you to be squeamish and you have wide experience of attending to your mother's various complaints. Recruits who complete the course_ _may_ _then be eligible for the A.T.S. This does not sound very glamourous, I'll admit, but it might be worth looking into all the same. There is an address to which you can write, as you'll see._

 _Your Uncle Michael and I are of one mind on the matters I have written about here, as well as in feeling that it would be best if you did_ _not_ _share the contents of this letter with your parents, at least for the time being. There_ _is_ _such a thing as a white lie, and if you need to tell them one, then by all means do so._

 _I am as ever,_

 _Your most affectionate aunt,_

 _Amy Braithwaite_

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Braithfield Farm  
Fullerton Road  
Red Rice, Andover, Hampshire

 _1 September 1939_

 _Dear Iain and Emma,_

 _Michael joins me in offering sincere thanks for your hospitality over the past two days; I am sorry that he felt compelled to depart earlier than we had planned. Needless to say he is full of the old bluster, eager to see us go to war against Germany – and probably happier just now than he has been for a couple of years! I am bound to admit that I don't entirely disagree with him. There would probably no point in disagreeing now in any case; we have been listening to the wireless since we arrived and I think that we will hear the declaration very soon indeed._

 _It does sadden me to think that any family gathering in the foreseeable future will take place in the straightened conditions of wartime, and in all likelihood consist solely of us 'old folk,' as the young people depart for service to the Nation._

 _Well, must get on with it! No grumbling!_

 _Your affectionate sister,_

 _Aemelia Braithwaite_

 _P.S.: Great excitement here! I was about to fold this and put it into its envelope when our neighbor in Stockbridge Road, Marjorie Tazewell, whom Sam may recall from her visits here, came to summon us to her telephone. My step-daughter, Laura, who as I am sure you remember joined the Auxiliary Territorial Service last year, was on the line; her section was transferred to the new Women's Auxiliary Air Force in July, and she telephoned from Great Dunmow to tell us that they 'have been placed on highest alert,' as she put it, presumably to be sent somewhere or other. She sounded so happy! As for my boys, we are still waiting to hear. Perhaps Michael will now change his mind about getting a telephone line. (At least he doesn't talk about rejoining his regiment, at his age!)_

* * *

Saturday 2 September 1939

 _Managed to get into village today at last! Felt as if entire High Street were holding breath. People a bit jittery, too – not surprising, I suppose. Posted notice re Vespers on board outside postal office._

 _Long article in_ _Times_ _on civil defence – imposition of full blackout, plus air-raid warning system. Factory horns, etc., not to be sounded now except to warn of raid. (_ _Important __note_ _: warning is series of short blasts, all clear is single two-minute blast.) Also, plans for food rationing already in place._ _Horrible_ _._

 _Evening – Fifty-two people at Vespers. Dad quite pleased, I think! Letter from Aunt A in evening post with newspaper clippings about W.A.A.F. and new group for women: Mechanised Transport Training Corps. Must be able to_ _drive __car!_ _Jolly good! Aunt believes I need to leave nest – has been hinting to all concerned for a year or more – thinks this might be the way if war breaks out. (More question of_ _when_ _than_ _if_ _, as Aunt says. Must face facts.)_

* * *

Sunday 3 September 1939

 _Woke up quite early this morning but didn't go to Communion as did not fast. Dad says only seven people there. Not surprised – probably no one_ _ _much_ feels like giving thanks just now. Went to Matins with Mother – twenty people not including choir, etc._

 _Dad,_ _of __all __people_ _, just switched the wireless on! Going downstairs now to listen._

 _Later – War declared at 11:15 this morning. Mr Chamberlain spoke, followed by the King._ _Very_ _moving, especially as H.M. is said to_ _loathe_ _giving speeches, but have to say it doesn't feel real._

 _Except for blackout, of course._ _And possible rationing._ _Dad says will recite Great Litany during Vespers this eve. Can't remember_ _ever_ _hearing this outside of Lent_

 _Later still – Church absolutely_ _packed_ _for Vespers! People not expecting G.L., though; saw sour looks on some faces. Still feels like nothing has changed._

* * *

Monday 4 September 1939

 _Mr Simmons in Old Mead Road died early this morning; no real surprise as was nearly 75. Funeral Thursday. Mother in bed with headache most of afternoon. Very ordinary day, much like Friday, Saturday, etc._

 _Later – Have decided to look into organisation Aunt Amy wrote to me about: Mechanised Transport Training Corps. Also new W.A.A.F., like Laura B._

* * *

Tuesday 5 September 1939

 _Item in_ _Times_ _about M.T.T.C. – they run errands of mercy, care for government cars, need 120 more drivers immediately_ _. Wrote to both them and W.A.A.F._ _Definitely_ _best to keep quiet about this. Will have to make extra effort for next several days to meet postman before Dad or Mother._

 _Later - Uncle Desmond telephoned from Manchester to say he plans on rejoining his regiment from the last war - The Duke of Manchester's Own, sounds very romantic - but of course as a chaplain this time._

* * *

Wednesday 6 September 1939

 _Wireless reports Germans attempted air raid on east coast of England this morning but turned back before reaching shore, not clear as to why – perhaps scared off by our forces, but perhaps also due to bad weather. Mother quite perturbed by this news, but also seemed_ _excited_ _– very odd._

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 **MECHANISED TRANSPORT TRAINING CORPS  
** HEADQUARTERS  
33, Leinster Gardens  
London, W2

6 September 1939

Miss Samantha Stewart  
The Vicarage  
Lyminster  
West Sussex

Dear Miss Stewart:

In response to your letter of yesterday, Mrs G.M. Cook, Corps Commandant, has directed me to forward to you the enclosed informational pamphlet and application for enlistment. If you are interested in pursuing membership in our organisation please fill in the form and return it to my attention at the above address at your convenience.

I have taken it upon myself to find your location in the gazetteer, and I feel compelled to apprise you of two important facts. First, our closest area command to Lyminster is at Brighton, at least an hour's journey from your home. (Of course this may change in future.) Second, while all training is provided at no charge, our members receive no stipend or wage and must pay all uniform, travel, housing and living expenses out of pocket. The cost of the first of these is currently £14. Amongst our goals is to achieve recognition, and ideally support, from His Majesty's Government, but until that occurs matters are likely to remain as they are now.

If you remain interested we shall look forward to hearing from you.

Yours sincerely,

 _Pamela Bullock  
_ Pamela Bullock (Mrs)  
Corresponding Secretary

enclosures

* * *

Thursday 7 September 1939

 _Disaster! Dad met postman this morning – intercepted letter from M.T.T.C., gave to me with_ _very_ _suspicious look, I thought. In any case M.T.T.C. simply_ _not_ _possible – pays_ _nothing_ _, members must have family support or private incomes. Must wait to hear from W.A.A.F._

 _Have just heard we must all go to village hall tomorrow to receive ration-books for petrol_ _and __food_ _, though no definite date yet to start using latter._

 _Later – Mr Simmons' funeral. Twenty-two people not counting Daddy and self._

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The Vicarage  
Lyminster  
West Sussex

 _7 September 1939_

 _Dear Aunt Amy,_

 _I was so_ _very_ _excited to receive your letter with the clippings. Thank you so much for sending them to me! It seems very odd to think of a war as a_ _gift_ _, but I agree with you, it will be a blessing in disguise for many girls – perhaps including me, though I ought to tell you how things stand here at present._

 _On Tuesday I wrote to both the W.A.A.F. and the M.T.T.C. I have yet to hear from the W.A.A.F. – perhaps they don't need anyone at present. But the M.T.T.C. must_ _really_ _be looking for recruits, because they replied by return post!_

 _There would be a problem with my joining the M.T.T.C., though. When they say it's a voluntary organisation part of what they mean is that it's __private_ _. It's not part of H.M.G. and it's supported by its own members. They are paid_ _nothing __at __all_ _and they have to pay all their own expenses. So I would have to purchase my uniform, which costs £_ _14, and if I were billeted somewhere I would have to pay rental and board and so on. I don't think that Mother and Dad would co-operate with that, do you? Especially as I'm not yet 21. And the nearest command is in Brighton, so clearly I would have to_ _live_ _there, or go even farther away. So I shall wait to hear from the W.A.A.F., and perhaps also look into the A.T.S. or the W.R.N.S._

 _Please give my fondest regards to Uncle Michael. I can_ _hardly __wait_ _for 1940 when I can start writing in my beautiful new diary, and am practicing by trying hard to keep a diary every day for the rest of this year._

 _Best love always,_

 _Sam_

 _P.S.: Do you think it will make any difference that I don't have a school certificate? It wasn't_ _my_ _choice to leave school as soon as it was legal for me to so, after all._ _Also,_ _unfortunately it was Dad who met the postman this morning, so he knows that_ _someone_ _in London sent me a letter with the address_ _typed_ _on the envelope. He gave me a_ _very_ _odd look as he handed it to me and I think that he suspects that something is going on._

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'Your colour is much better today, Mother. Your appetite seems better than yesterday, also.'

'Thank you, Samantha. Your father _did_ cook luncheon, after all.'

Sam decides to change the subject.

'Do you think there will be more air-raids like the one on Wednesday, Mother? That one was a failure, of course, and nowhere near _here_ , but they might try again.'

'Oh, I'm quite _sure_ that they will. People are saying "over by Christmas" – even your dear father seems to think so – but that's what they said the last time. I'm afraid that this is likely to be a long war, perhaps longer even than the last; the Germans bear a grudge against us. We'll never give up, of course, but neither will they, until we force them to do so.'

'Do you think the government will expand conscription?'

'I suppose they might _have_ to do that at some point, although men do seem to be volunteering.'

'It would be better to volunteer than to wait to be called up, wouldn't it?'

'Well... I suppose that from a _moral_ viewpoint, yes, it would be. Unless it were a case of a man being his family's only support, or some other mitigating circumstance. We hardly need worry about that in _your_ case, however.'

'It might be better to worry now rather than later.'

'What ever do you mean? Samantha, the glare from that lamp is giving me a headache. Put it out, will you, please?'

'You never talk about what _you_ did during the last war,' Sam continues, after doing that.

'I'd already been married to your father for several years when the last war began.'

 _Oh, yes, of course_ , Sam thinks. _And constantly either with child or burying the ones who didn't thrive. How dreadful to have to think of that._

But she cannot bring herself to change the subject again.

'What about during the South African War?'

'I was still a child then, Samantha.'

 _It's no good,_ Sam thinks. _I shall have to simply ask her right out._ 'What do you think would be the best sort of war service for _me_ to do, Mother?'

' _Oh_. Well, I suppose we _should_ discuss that at some point. I have to say, though, that I don't like the idea that you would be sent away somewhere. That's what seems to be happening to many of these girls.'

'Like Laura! Uncle Michael doesn't seem to mind.'

'Laura is older than you are, and has had more experience of life.'

That, Sam feels, is a bit much.

'Well, of _course_ she has! She has an Advanced School Certificate, _and_ a university degree!'

'You're right,' her mother says after a moment. 'I apologise, Samantha, dear. That was unkind of me. It must seem to you that I have missed a great adventure in life,' she goes on. 'Perhaps you are right about _that_ , as well, but it was simply never my row to hoe. Seeing the harm that the last war inflicted on so many of those who survived it, I actually felt quite blessed, in a way, to have been relegated to the sidelines, despite my own troubles during those years.'

'Do you think this war will be worse than the last in that way, Mother?'

'I don't see how it _couldn't_ be. Not that I wouldn't describe this as a _just_ war. Far from it – it's much more so than the last one was. And I will concede, Samantha, that all hands are likely to be needed to bring us through it. We _will_ talk with your father about some sort of appropriate service that you can perform. But I've yet to be convinced that girls like Laura won't be... _damaged_ in some way by their experience. I take it,' Mrs Stewart continues, 'that you feel compelled to look elsewhere for an opportunity to serve.'

'The thing of it is, Mother,' Sam replies after a moment's silence, 'Lyminster is such a _small_ place that there won't be much _need_ for war workers here, or much _opportunity_. I would probably _have_ to go away somewhere.'

'That is precisely what worries me. Who will look after me when I'm unwell? Far more importantly, who will look after _you_?'

'I'm almost _never_ ill, Mother.'

'I wasn't thinking of _illness_ , Samantha.'

Sam looks out of the window. She can't think of anything more to say.

* * *

 **Author's notes** :

No end of thanks to OxfordKivrin for feedback on an early draft of this story; to rosalindfan for insight into the economic issues that will begin to come up in chapter 2; and to both rosalindfan and artichokeheart, whose own stories have given me the courage to follow my instincts and write the conversational sections of this story in the present tense.

Making Sam as young as I have made her here seems to create a conflict with "Fifty Ships" (September 1940) in which Sam describes her billet-mate Jenny Wentworth as being a year her senior at 23. She does this in the immediate aftermath of a traumatic incident and on insufficient sleep, so let's suppose that she is simply confused at that moment.

There is a truly mind-boggling lack of information available regarding the history of the Mechanised Transport Corps. It was founded early in 1939 as the Mechanised Transport Training Corps; the third word of the original name was dropped by May 1940. All of the items from _The Times_ and _The Sunday Times_ that I've referred to in this story are genuine, as is Mrs. Cook, the founder and original Corps Commandant (I invented Mrs. Bullock); through the digitized archives of those and other British papers, I've learned that members originally had to pay all of their own expenses, a situation that didn't change until November 1941, when the M.T.C. came under the aegis of the newly-established Ministry of War Transport.

The minimum age for leaving school in England and Wales was 14 from 1918 until 1945, when it was raised to 15. Those who stayed until age 15 with an acceptable academic record were awarded a School Certificate (the equivalent of today's O-levels). I have been unable to discover the minimum educational requirement for enlisting in the A.T.S., W.A.A.F., or W.R.N.S. (or the M.T.C., for that matter); but Sam states in "The German Woman" that she wanted to be in the W.A.A.F. but ended up in the M.T.C., and it seems plausible that a lack of formal education was what led to this.

Red Rice, Andover, is an actual place in Hampshire, although it appears that in reality there was no freehold farming there until the 1960s.


	2. Chapter 2

Sunday 10 September 1939

 _Went to Communion (just six people), came home, cooked breakfast for all, cleaned up, by that time too late to go to Matins. Dad says church about half full, and two men from choir are gone – both joined up._

 _Article in_ _Times_ _about W.A.A.F. – pay for motor transport drivers starts at 1s. 4d. a day, rises to 2s. 4d. a day 'when mustered as aircraft women first class.' Not enough to live on, really – then again everything seems to be provided for them (meals, uniform, etc)._ _Quite_ _unlike M.T.T.C!_

 _At war for a week now, but does not feel any different than Monday._

* * *

Braithfield Farm  
Fullerton Road  
Red Rice, Andover, Hampshire

 _11 September 1939_

 _My dear Sam,_

 _Thank you for your letter of Thursday last. I have read it over a number of times and spent some time during the week-end considering your dilemma and discussing it with your Uncle Michael. (I do hope that you don't mind this, seeing that you addressed the letter only to me. Remember that Michael is an old soldier as well as an old yeoman farmer, and has had_ _lots_ _of experience of solving hard problems!)_

 _From what Laura has told us I have to say that enlisting in the W.A.A.F. without a school certificate would be difficult at best and I was probably unwise to send you the article about that body. The same appears to be true of the A.T.S. (I do not propose that you should join the Women's Royal Naval Service. One hears unsettling things about these 'Wrens'.) It would be much easier for you to join the M.T.T.C. – which might then lead to the A.T.S., remember – but you are quite right that before that can happen we will have to address the question of your support. I don't think that's_ _completely_ _impossible, and will be happy to take charge of the effort; it will give me something to do and will keep me from spending too much time worrying about how your cousins Alex and Teddy will fare in this war!_

 _The problem of your age will be knottier, as it will be nearly a year until you are able to move from Lyminster without your father's permission. I suspect that this will require not only my persuasive powers, but also those of as many of your uncles as we can enlist. I wrote_ _we_ _in the previous sentence; but please let_ _me_ _begin the campaign, and I will let you know how things progress._

 _In the meantime, be sure to get in as much practise driving as you can. As you doubtless know by now they are going to start rationing petrol on the 16th, so you will not be able to go for a jaunt on the spur of the moment, but if your father needs to go anywhere in the car, or if your mother wants a change of scenery, offer to do the driving for them._

 _Uncle Michael joins me in sending his very best wishes; he has asked me to leave some space at the end of this so that he can add a few words of his own._

 _Your fond aunt,_

 _Amy Braithwaite_

 _Sam, dear girl,_

 _I am delighted that you want to serve the Nation at this hour of need – and especially that my Laura seems to have inspired you! I always thought it was a pity that the women's auxiliaries were broken up after the last war. My best advice at this point is to keep up with the war news at all times, and to point it out to your parents when you learn of a girl of similar age and situation to yours going in for war work of any kind –_ _both_ _of them, as your aunt and I believe it will be essential to bring your mother around to our point of view! And do try to keep in good spirits._

 _Your doting old uncle,_

 _Michael Braithwaite_

* * *

Braithfield Farm  
Fullerton Road  
Red Rice, Andover, Hampshire

 _12 September 1939_

 _Dear Aubrey,_

 _I hope that this letter finds you as well as possible and not too discommoded by the change in our circumstances. I do apologize for not writing to you more quickly after war was declared. As you may imagine, I have been much occupied with various matters close to home, not least the question of what war service my boys will perform. Of course I use the word 'boys' in jest. They are grown men, one of them a husband and a father, and it is hardly my place to meddle in their lives. Still, a mother worries._

 _An aunt may also worry, which is the real subject of this letter. I think you will agree with me that our cause and that of our allies will require that every sound mind contained in an able body, of either sex, be put to use. For some this will be a tremendous burden; for others it will be as if they had been granted wings. There are too many young Britons whose gifts are not being adequately employed where they are and who until now have lacked the means or the impetus, or both, to change their situations. For young men, means and impetus will likely come in the form of conscription, or of course the wish to volunteer. But many of our young women will require great reserves of will and persuasiveness in order to serve, as they will need the backing of their families, which for various reasons may not be immediately forthcoming. _

_Our Sam is one of those young women. As you know, Michael and I visited Lyminster for Sam's birthday, and although she was her usual cheerful self I have to say that what I saw did not make me optimistic for her future there. She is expected at all times to be available to attend to Emma's various needs and wants; and because Emma cannot, or, as I am increasingly convinced,_ _will_ _not, perform the normal duties of a vicar's wife, Sam must undertake those tasks as well. This is_ _no_ _life for an intelligent girl of her years, particularly given the smallness and isolation of Lyminster. She sees no-one whom, and encounters nothing which, she has not known since infancy. Her skills as a carer, her excellent powers of observation, the remarkable physical courage and steady nerves that both you and I have noticed: all of these could be put to much better and wider use that they are now. If nothing else, let us admit that in her present situation Sam's prospects for finding a suitable husband are slim indeed._

 _I see that I have vented my feelings to a much greater degree than I had intended, to the point, essentially, of accusing Emma of malingering. Well, so be it: I have grown tired of pretense on this subject. I suspect that Iain and Emma would be quick to insist that Sam's stinted education leaves her poorly qualified for national service; but whose fault is that but their own? First Emma insisted that Sam could not possibly continue her studies alongside the villagers' children; then Iain refused, even with an offer of material assistance, to send her away to school, and admittedly a tutor was beyond anyone's means, leaving no alternative but for Sam's schooling to end at just fourteen years of age. It really is_ _too __bad_ _!_

 _There, I_ _do_ _feel a bit better now!_

 _What I hope to do is to persuade you, along with as many of our brothers as I can enlist, to join me in convincing Iain and Emma to allow Sam to join either the Auxiliary Territorial Services or the Women's Auxiliary Air Force or, if that proves impossible (as I fear it may), a private women's service organisation called the Mechanised Transport Training Corps, which received some attention in the press during the winter, shortly after it was launched._

 _You'll recall that my stepdaughter, Laura, joined the A.T.S. when it was organised last year; she was transferred in June to the new W.A.A.F. and is now a Senior Section Leader. She tells me that neither branch of the forces is willing at present to accept any volunteer without a school certificate, and that matters are unlikely to change until – steel yourself, dear Aubrey! – conscription is expanded to include women (something that Laura believes is possible and even likely). I cannot envision Sam in the Land Army – her efforts to help out in the fields here have been comical at best – so you can see that the M.T.T.C. is the best place for her at present. There also seems to be a possibility that girls who successfully train for that group could join the A.T.S. in future._

 _There are two difficulties. The first is that the M.T.T.C. is a_ _private_ _organisation, something I confess I had not understood when I first wrote to Sam about it. Members receive no payment of any sort and must pay all of their own expenses, which in Sam's case would include rental, as she would have to go at least as far away as Brighton. The second, of course, is that Sam is still nearly a year away from her majority, so until then enlistment of any kind will require Iain's permission. Thus, we must secure two objects: Iain's consent (which is unlikely to come without Emma's blessing, I think), and a source of support for Sam. The latter, I believe, will need to be a group project. If each of the Stewart siblings' households were to contribute 5s. per week to defray Sam's upkeep, and if Sam were willing to use interest from the sum set aside for her by Emma's father to pay for her uniform and any initial travel costs, I think she would be able to live decently, albeit modestly. As for the issue of consent, I have written to_ _you_ _ahead of any of the others because, being nearest to Iain both geographically and in age, you seem the most able persuader. I realise, of course, that your plate is likely to be quite full just now, but a carefully-worded letter to our dear Iain would be very helpful._

 _As for_ _this_ _letter, it has grown far longer than I had planned; thank you for your patience as I have unburdened myself. Michael joins me in sending his fondest regards, and in asking to be remembered to the Harpers – what a grand time we all had at Easter!_

 _Please do let me know what you think of all this._

 _Your affectionate sister,_

 _Aemelia Braithwaite_

* * *

Wednesday 13 September 1939

 _Item in_ _Times_ _today notes fewer letters being sent since war began. Family not contributing to this trend._

 _Was meant to spend day in garden helping Dad (esp putting in air-raid shelter – should have been done by now), but Mother twisted her ankle getting out of bath so had to care for that. Shouldn't admit this, but can't help wondering sometimes if she does this sort of thing deliberately._

* * *

'Dad, may I ask your advice about something?'

'Of course, Samantha, at any time.'

'Well... ' Sam hesitates, takes a deep breath to steel herself and goes on. 'How do you think I can best be of service to our cause during this war?'

'By remaining where you are and being a help to your mother and father.' The Rev. Iain Stewart looks directly at his daughter for what feels to her like the first time in ages. 'I do hope, Samantha, that you don't imagine casting your lot with these one of these new organisations that allow women to pretend that they are servicemen.'

'They're not _entirely_ new, Dad. There were _lots_ of women in uniform during the last war. Aunt Amy has told me all about it.'

'Your mother and I did not make the wisest choice in asking your Aunt Aemelia to stand godmother to you, I fear; she's decidedly _not_ the best influence. I do wish, for one thing, that the two of you wouldn't call each other by those vulgar diminutives that you favour. More to the point, however, she forgets, and _you_ ought to consider, what Deuteronomy tells us about women captives, they way in which they are inevitably degraded and humiliated.'

'But I wouldn't be going anywhere _near_ the actual _fighting_ , Dad.'

'We have no way of knowing _where_ the actual fighting will _be_.'

'Well... that's true, of course. But if it were _here_ , I might be taken prisoner anyway, whether I was in the service or not.'

'We can cross that bridge when we come to it, and _if_ we do so. In any case, by the time you attain your majority we will once again be at peace. And victorious, I might add.'

'Do you really think so?'

'I am sure of it.'

* * *

The Vicarage  
Leavenham, Hampshire

 _Friday 15 September 1939_

 _Dear Aemelia,_

 _Your letter of Tuesday has given me much food for thought, and I must confess that I am in something of a quandary as to how best to respond._

 _I agree with you wholeheartedly that Samantha's situation at home is unfortunate, to say the least, and that Iain's disregard for her education is deplorable. While we must not discount the lasting effects of Emma's long struggle to bring a healthy child into the world – it is a bit hard to argue with three bouts of bronchitis and two of pneumonia – I am also bound to agree that Emma has become one who 'enjoys poor health,' as they say. You certainly have my complete sympathy in your desire to see Samantha liberated, for lack of a better way of putting it, from her present circumstances._

 _The question is whether a war can ever be the best instrument of liberation. I must submit that it cannot. Even if it will be 'over by Christmas,' as some are saying (and I am quite skeptical on that point), it is bound to bring carnage, the deaths of innocent civilians on both sides, and the corruption that is always and everywhere the handmaiden of warfare. I would be deeply unhappy to see our niece exposed to any of this, and am equally reluctant to take part in what could become another family quarrel._

 _And yet I agree with you that all hands – Samantha's included, without doubt – will be required to bring this conflict to its desired end as quickly as possible. While I consider how best to approach Iain, here is an idea for you: why not ask your stepdaughter to write to Emma? Emma is quite fond of Laura, as I recall. Laura should not mention Samantha in her letter, except to be remembered to her of course, but simply express her enthusiasm for the service she is now performing. (Please do remember me to Laura as well, and of course to Michael and the boys. You are in my prayers at all times, needless to say.)_

 _Regarding the matter of Samantha's support, I would be quite willing to do my bit, and actually think that you are being a bit ungenerous – 6s. 6p. per week from each of us would be a more realistic sum. (Don't forget that Desmond has announced that he plans to rejoin his regiment and thus won't be in a position to be of much material help.)_

 _I must close this letter now, but will write again if anything more occurs to me._

 _With every best wish as we head into the uncertain future, I am,_

 _Your affectionate brother,_

 _Aubrey Stewart_

 _P.S.:_ _Although I suppose that you would want to be Sam's bursar, it occurs to me that it might be best if I were to broach the issue of funds with both Iain and Timothy._

* * *

Saturday 16 September 1939

 _Petrol rationing began today._

 _Item on wireless: a British convoy sailing from Liverpool to North America was attacked today by a German submarine ship. One ship of ours, HMS Aviemore, was sunk. Wireless describes this as first clear convoy contact in British waters since war began. Item in __Times_ _: Welsh National Eisteddfod and various exhibitions, AGMs, etc., being postponed until further notice, or simply cancelled. People have been calling this a 'phony war,' but sounds as if they are beginning to take matters seriously._

* * *

Sunday 17 September 1939

 _Good crowd at Matins this morning but mostly women and girls. Seventeen men from parish called-up during last fortnight, nine others volunteered. Also, Hattie Powell enlisted in A.T.S. and awaiting assignment! Told this last bit to Dad and Mother, got chilly looks in return – more from D than from M, but clearly different approach needed._

* * *

Monday 18 September 1939

 _Admiralty announced this afternoon sinking of our warship H.M.S._ _Courageous_ _off coast of Ireland by German submarine (called_ _u-boat_ _, apparently), which they think was then sunk by our destroyers. Some survivors were rescued, but no more information than that._

* * *

Tuesday 19 September 1939

 _Drove Dad and Mother to visit Mr and Mrs Powell and Hattie. Mr and Mrs P_ _very_ _proud of H – wonderful to see. However Mr P told us British forces now leaving for France, also insisted_ _Courageous_ _was sunk with help from Ireland – all on Germany's side, he said. Dad furious, gave him stern warning about spreading gossip. Quite right, too, but nice visit ruined._

* * *

Wednesday 20 September 1939

 _More news about HMS_ _Courageous_ _– 681 rescued, but 518 of our servicemen dead or unaccounted for.  
Am feeling especially useless today._

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Braithfield Farm  
Fullerton Road  
Red Rice, Andover, Hampshire

 _20 September 1939_

 _Dear Laura,_

 _Just a brief note to underline my good wishes. I hope you are settling in nicely up there in Cheshire. When you have a moment to spare, I wonder if you could do me a small favour._

 _Before you left we spoke about my niece and god-daughter, Sam Stewart, and how her parents have kept her locked in a tower, so to speak. I have now begun a stealth campaign, in which I need to enlist_ _you_ _, to induce them to release Sam for war service. (She is still a minor, remember.) Of course this authority lies with my brother Iain, but I feel certain that he won't act without my sister-in-law's blessing. Could you please write to Emma? Don't mention Sam in connection with war work (and certainly don't mention that I asked you to write!) – just enthuse about your own service. That would be_ _most_ _helpful. My thanks in advance._

 _Your step-brother Teddy went to Winchester on Monday to enlist and was told to wait for a call-up letter. Meanwhile Alex, as a husband and father, had determined to do just that, but received his letter this morning!_

 _Fondly,_

 _Amy_

* * *

Friday 22 September 1939

 _Longish article in_ _Times_ _today – Home Secretary says only one-third of civil defence workers being paid, so M.T.T.C. not out of step.  
Dad says I am spending too much time reading newspaper, does no-one any good._

* * *

Saturday 23 September 1939

 _Dad very bucked up by letter from Bishop of St. Albans in_ _Times_ _today, calling for relief from petrol rationing for clergy._

* * *

Sunday 24 September 1939

 _Times reports Friday will be National Registration Day – 1931 census out of date, so census to be taken for use as basis of emergency measures including food rationing_ _ _(!)_.  
_

* * *

Tuesday 26 September 1939

 _Received National Registration forms in morning post – to be filled and returned by Friday night. Instructions state that 'the occupation of wives not following any employment should be listed as "unpaid domestic duties."' Does not say anything about twenty-year-old daughters not following any employment._

* * *

Thursday 28 September 1939

 _Times_ _reports Warsaw on verge of surrender. Went to village to run errands – very sad atmosphere._

* * *

Friday 29 September 1939

 _Times_ _and wireless confirm Warsaw surrendered to Germans. Tried to talk again to Dad and Mother about war service. M took my part up to a point, said there's a need for everyone to do_ _something_ _, but still insists I must do my bit at home, billet not appropriate for young girl, etc., etc._

* * *

Saturday 30 September 1939

 _Man came by to collect registration form this morning. Was rather rude to Dad – told him 'there's a war on,' and said_ _I_ _should be 'put to use!' Not sure if this helps or hurts._

* * *

Sunday 1 October 1939

 _Can't think of a single thing to write today.  
Really no point in keeping diary if I am to spend war here in Lyminster knitting Balaclavas or the like._

* * *

Tuesday 3 October 1939

 _At war for a month today. Nothing else of note._

* * *

Thursday 5 October 1939

 _Times_ _announces that Mr Bernard Stubbs will cover home front, civil defence, war at sea, etc., for B.B.C. using recording car. Wonder if I could get job driving it for him?_

* * *

 **Author's notes** :

Another thing that I have had trouble researching is what Sam's cost of living would have been. I finally found a web page, titled _Wartime Money_ , that states that average weekly earnings in the UK in 1939 amounted to £3 17s., and in the absence of any other figures I am assuming that this is accurate. Sam has only herself to support, so I am also assuming that she can make do with considerably less than that.

The Scripture that Sam's father refers to is Deuteronomy 21:10-14, which instructs victorious soldiers on the treatment of female POWs (and whose opening words, in the King James Version, give this story its title). I have always been taught that this passage, while acknowledging the realities of warfare, is intended to discourage men, and society as a whole, from thinking of women as chattel. Mr. Stewart, coming from a different tradition than mine, might perhaps have more literal - and less optimistic - view of these verses.


	3. Chapter 3

_RAF Great Paxton, Cheshire  
8 October 1939_

 _Dear Mrs Stewart,_

 _I have been meaning to write to you for quite some time, to enquire after your health and to say how sorry I am that I wasn't able to join you for Sam's birthday, but the war's outbreak and my transfer 'oop norf' have left me with very little free time. I do hope that you are well and that everyone at Lyminster is keeping in good spirits._

 _This is a new part of the country for me. It is quite lovely here (if a bit flatter than I expected) and whenever I have gone into the village people have been very charming and kind. Not that there have been many chances for visiting! I am convinced more than ever that I made the right decision by joining the forces. It is_ _much_ _more interesting than teaching sciences – of course that's vital work, but it grew stale for me rather quickly._

 _At the same time, nothing's wasted. I have to say that I am still using knowledge that I gained in my old job, and the training for it. The girls who are joining up now are as young as 18, some of them, most away from their homes for the first time, and it is important that they feel secure and confident that they will be able to perform their war service without placing either their virtue or, on the other hand, their womanliness (for lack of a better way of putting it) at risk. Instilling that confidence is part of my job here. So is providing that security. _

_Recently I heard from an old school chum who, like me, joined the A.T.S. last year (but unlike me, she's still there!). She says it's much the same at her end, and from what I'm hearing 'along the vine'_ _all_ _of the women's uniformed services are making the same effort. I think that this war, however long or short it proves to be, is going to be ground-breaking for women in many respects, and that one of them will be the_ _essential_ _role that we will play on the home front, working_ _directly_ _with the fighting men._

 _I must close this letter, as we are expecting another group of new recruits to arrive tomorrow morning and preparations must be made. Please give my very best wishes to Mr Stewart and especially to Sam. What an exciting time this must be for her!_

 _Affectionately yours,_

 _Senior Section Leader Laura Braithwaite – 12441_

* * *

Monday 9 October 1939

 _Have neglected this diary for a time in order to care for Mother (head cold) and finally help Dad get garden in order for autumn. Not much else to do, as no sign of progress on war service front. Dad says in spring we will dig up perennials to make space for kitchen garden. Wanted to say 'We?' but thought better of it._

 _In any case, have resolved to renew birthday resolution to keep diary._

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The Vicarage  
Leavenham, Hampshire

 _9 October 1939_

 _My dear Samantha,_

 _As I feel sure you are aware, your Aunt Aemelia is attempting to enlist me – and the entire family, it appears – in a campaign to persuade your dear parents to allow you to engage in war service sooner rather than later. I must admit that I feel very much of two minds about this. I am not eager, to say the least, to create a rift in our family; I am equally unenthusiastic about seeing you exposed to any aspect of warfare, which past observations have taught me is capable of corrupting anything and everything that it touches. In particular, I am anxious about what you will make of the present war, or more especially what __it_ _will make of_ _you_ _, if your part in it should separate you from the loving guidance of your parents._

 _Well, I apologise for the last bit of that paragraph, which I fear smells rather strongly of Mr. Pecksniff. Having got all of that off of my chest, let me add that I am not insensitive to your (and your aunt's) feeling that you are 'on the shelf,' as it were, in Lyminster, and tend to agree with her that the service that you will undoubtedly be called upon, in one way or another, to provide during this conflict may have the benefit of broadening your horizons. She has told me about the Mechanised Transport Training Corps and all things being equal it sounds as if that would be a very good place for you. As far as making things equal is concerned, I will do my best to write to your father this week. Let me repeat that I am concerned about the danger of igniting a family quarrel – something to which we have been regrettably prone in the past, as you may have learnt by now – and thus must choose my words with particular care._

 _Please be patient in the meantime, and look for whatever opportunities to serve may come your way where you are._

 _Your fond uncle,_

 _Aubrey Stewart_

* * *

Tuesday 10 October 1939

 _Encouraging letter from Uncle A – obviously meant to be so, at least. Advises patience._

 _Later – Plot thickens a bit. Mother got letter from Laura B. in afternoon post. Hasn't let me read it (no reason why she should, of course), but I think she showed it to Dad while I was putting tea things away and I_ _distinctly_ _heard her say that 'we need to discuss what sort of war service Samantha will perform,' and 'What Laura is doing,' and 'pretty soon there will be no young people left in this village or the next, they will all have gone to the war,' (a bit_ _odd_ _, this, as she didn't want me to go to school with the young people in this village or the next, so why should she worry if I am the only one left?), also something about 'probably not much opportunity here,' and 'accommodations for women in service,' etc. Couldn't make out what Dad said, and as soon as I came back into the parlour they both stopped talking._

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Cathedral and Collegiate Church of St Mary, St Denys and St George  
Canons' House  
Victoria Street, Manchester

 _10 October 1939_

 _Dear Iain,_

 _Thank you for your very thoughtful letter of last month, and please accept my humble apologies for not answering sooner. There has been a great deal for me to do here, as I am sure you can imagine._

 _You know, of course, that I am returning to the Duke of Manchester's Own as a chaplain. My commission arrived yesterday and I am to report for duty on Saturday. I will admit to being slightly anxious about my fitness to serve at my age, but I was much encouraged by what I read in_ _The __Times_ _yesterday about the Archbishop's sermon on Sunday, particularly his Grace's comment that 'it would be blindness to the everlasting difference between good and evil' to shrink from confronting our nation's enemies. And I am increasingly convinced that all of us who are able, men and women, young and old, will have_ _something_ _to contribute to this effort – even myself._

 _Of course this will mean a great deal of disruption to the normal pattern of life - particularly, I suppose, family life. I have very few regrets about casting my lot in Manchester, but one of them is that I have not had much chance to watch my niece grow up. You, as the only one of the Stewart brothers to have continued the family line, must surely be very concerned at the moment about what role Samantha might play in this conflict. If I were going to offer advice, I suppose I would urge you to consider what practical skills she may have. (Do I remember correctly that Aemelia taught her how to drive a car a year or two ago? I do wish_ _I'd_ _learned to do that!) And of course it may very well be that the best use for 'the work of her hands' will be found away from home._

 _I must close this letter now; I will write again as soon as I can. I hope that Emma is doing well. Please give both her and Samantha my very fondest regards._

 _Your affectionate brother,_

 _Desmond Stewart_

* * *

Holy Trinity Vicarage  
Ripon, North Yorkshire

 _11 October 1939_

 _My dear Iain,_

 _As you may have guessed, Aemelia has asked me to write to you regarding Samantha and her immediate future. I know from past experience what it's like to be on the receiving end of one of our dear sister's crusades, so you have my complete sympathy as far as that's concerned!_

 _As a bachelor, of course, I can only imagine the anxiety you must be feeling now regarding your dear daughter. I would be less than honest, however, were I to pretend to disagree with Aemelia on this point. If Samantha wishes to offer what services she can to the war effort, I believe that she should be free to do so (within reason, naturally), and since she is not yet of age I can only hope that you will not stand in her way._

 _My memories of the last war are of course those of a man too young to take up arms, but one thing that I do recall very clearly is the role that the fairer sex played in fighting the good fight. Our own mother organised a female ambulance brigade, as you doubtless recall; those women wore khaki. There were British nurses on the front lines in the Crimea. Boadicea led the Iceni against the Romans. If you don't care for those examples, consider Jael and Sisera. My point, I suppose, is that what Aemelia has in mind for Samantha is hardly an innovation._

 _In any event, please extend my best wishes to both Samantha and Emma. I hope that you are all keeping cheerful despite everything._

 _Your fond brother,_

 _Timothy Stewart_

* * *

Thursday, 12 October 1939 _  
_ _Will drive Dad to Littlehampton this afternoon for deanery meeting. Nice day for it – Mother feeling better, so has decided to come along._

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

'Will you remember where we left the car?'

'At the foot of the River Road, Mother. Are you sure you sure that you wouldn't prefer to walk there? Or we could go back to the car and I'll drive us to the shore.'

'One sees more here.'

'There's nothing to see in the High Street but shop windows.'

'We can stop in that tearoom. Look over there, Samantha. What do you suppose that woman is doing?'

'Which woman?'

'Over _there_. In khaki.'

Sam turns her head to look, being careful not to unbalance her mother, who is leaning on her as much as on her walking stick. Sure enough, a woman in what looks like an A.T.S. uniform is standing on the footpath opposite them. She is a market basket under her arm and is distributing its contents to passers-by.

'She's handing out leaflets, I think,' says Sam.

'Let's go and talk with her. She has a nice face.'

Sam knows from long experience that her mother has odd fancies from time to time; they usually pass quickly and rarely amount to very much. _It has to be doing her some good to be on her feet in the fresh air_ , Sam thinks, so she puts up no resistance and lets her mother lead her across the High Street. The woman evidently hears them coming, and turns around to greet them as they approach.

'Good afternoon!' She is about thirty years old, Sam guesses, with a pleasant face, as her mother has said, and the faintest of Continental accents – French, perhaps. She introduces herself as Mrs Peake.

'Good afternoon. I'm Mrs Stewart; this is my daughter, Samantha. Are you in the Auxiliary Territorial Services?'

'Oh, dear, no,' Mrs Peake replies, sighing a bit. 'I should not criticise my Corps Commandant, of course, but it really was a _great_ mistake to model _this_ uniform so closely on _that_ one. No, I am in the Mechanised Transport Training Corps. We are a new women's branch of the civil defence, not yet a year old. We provide drivers for civilian officials; we operate public vehicles – motor coaches and that sort of thing – whose regular drivers have gone into the armed forces, and we maintain government vehicles of all kinds.'

'Maintain them! Do you mean as mechanics?' Mrs Stewart sounds slightly alarmed.

'Yes indeed! We have found that women make excellent mechanics. A woman almost always has a better eye for detail than a man, you know. We also teach women how to do these things, and to read maps, and administer first aid, and other subjects of that kind. The only thing we do not teach is driving itself; a recruit must already have her license.'

'My daughter has a driving license.'

'Perfect! May I give this to you, Miss Stewart?'

Mrs Peake takes something from her basket: the same brochure Sam received in September.

Sam can feel her face growing hot.

'Thank you, but I already have a copy.'

'You _do?_ How did you _obtain_ it?' asks Mrs Stewart, sounding thunderstruck.

'I wrote to Mrs Peake's organisation at the beginning of last month, just after war was declared. Aunt Amy sent me a clipping about them, from _The Times_.'

' _Did_ she. Well,' Mrs Stewart goes on, ' _I_ haven't seen that brochure. Might I?'

'Oh, certainly!' says Mrs Peake. 'If I may ask, Miss Stewart, what is your age?'

'I'm twenty,' Sam tells her. 'I won't be twenty-one until the end of next August.'

'I see. Well,' Mrs Peake goes on, 'if you have already corresponded with our headquarters than you know, of course, that as a minor you would need to have your father's permission to enlist.'

'Yes,' Sam answers her.

'And without wishing to seem indelicate,' Mrs Stewart inquires, 'are your organisation's rates of pay comparable to those for other women in the forces?'

'Ah. Unfortunately, at present we are not part of His Majesty's Government. So we are unable to pay our personnel anything at all. They must support themselves,' Mrs Peake explains, sounding slightly embarrassed. 'We have hopes that this will change soon, but the Defence Ministry have not shown much interest in us. I, for one, think we ought to be courting the Transport Ministry or the Labour Ministry.'

'Oh, dear. Were you aware of this, Samantha?'

'Yes, Mother, I know do about that. Aunt Amy apparently didn't at first, but when I told her about it she said that she would take charge of the problem.'

'Do you mean that she and your Uncle Michael have offered to pay for your upkeep, should you join this, er, body?'

'Not entirely, Mother, no. I think she meant that she would try to persuade other people in the family to _help_ them do so. Uncle Aubrey and Uncle Timothy and... well, I suppose Uncle Desmond won't be able to do so now, being back in the Army. _And_ you and Dad, as well,' Sam finishes up.

She hopes she doesn't sound as astounded as she feels. As far as she can recall this is the closest her mother has ever come to thinking in purely practical terms.

'Mrs Peake,' says Mrs Stewart after a moment, 'my daughter and I are going to stop at that tearoom at the corner. Will you join us?'

Mrs Peake looks torn. Sam's last speech must have piqued her curiosity.

'I'm meant to stand here, handing out these brochures and talking to passersby, just as I'm doing now,' she says.

'How long have you been here?' Sam asks.

'Nearly three hours, I think.'

'Surely you need to sit down!' exclaims Mrs Stewart. 'Perhaps the proprietress would like to have some of those brochures to offer to her guests.'

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

'Littlehampton is such a charming place!' Mrs Peake says cheerfully after the waitress has taken their order.

'It is,' Sam says politely, although she doesn't really think so. _Perhaps it's charming if you haven't seen it a thousand times. Yes, that must be it._ 'This isn't where we live, though. My father is the Vicar of Lyminster, a few miles north of here. We are only here for the afternoon while he attends a deanery meeting here.'

'I should tell you that our only area command in West Sussex is in Brighton, and it has become somewhat, oh, what is the word?... _oversubscribed_ , that is it! We do need personnel in London, _however_ ,' Mrs Peake goes on quickly, perhaps noticing the look of alarm that passes across Mrs Stewart's face when she mentions the capital, 'we are organising an area command in _East_ Sussex, in Hastings. I was there yesterday – another charming place!'

'That isn't _so_ far away,' Mrs Stewart muses.

'We also have a _very_ active area command in Hull,' Mrs Peake puts in.

'Of course, you would have to go and _live_ there, Samantha' Mrs Stewart goes on, ignoring this last remark. 'I suppose that is what your aunt had in mind.'

'When our personnel must be billeted we do everything in our power to ensure that their quarters are completely _suitable_ ,' says Mrs Peake, in a very firm voice.

* * *

The Vicarage  
Leavenham, Hampshire

 _12 October 1939_

 _Dear Iain,_

 _You can probably guess the subject of this letter, to say nothing of my reasons for having put off writing it until now. You and I both know that Aemelia thinks that Sam ought to do some sort of war service; that it would be better if she were to begin such service sooner rather than later, when she may become subject to conscription; that the best option would be for her to join a new civil defence organisation, the Mechanised Transport Training Corps; and that the family ought to unite in providing Sam with material support until such time as the aforementioned body is able to do so. When Aemelia first presented these ideas to me I was very uneasy indeed, but after devoting a great deal of thought and prayer to the matter I have come to believe that she is correct on all points. Please allow me to explain my reasoning._

 _To begin with, I am increasingly convinced that this war will be a long struggle. You will not find me in the 'over by Christmas' camp. That being the case, it follows that every pair of hands will be needed in order to prosecute the war in the most effective manner possible. This in turn makes it all the more likely that His Majesty's Government will at some point, perhaps soon, find it necessary to conscript women. Would it not be better to avoid this by securing a place for Samantha in a setting in which her abilities will be put to good use and her virtue respected? The organisation Aemelia is proposing that Samantha should join is, as I mentioned above, strictly for the civil defence, and therefore not subject to military law - which is designed to govern men, not women. Moreover it seems to be made up_ _entirely_ _of women, even at the very highest levels, which is an advantage in that no member of the male sex who is unrelated to Samantha, and who may not have her best interests at heart, will be in a position of authourity over her. I trust that I make myself clear. Wait for conscription and we will likely have far less control over that aspect of the situation._

 _There remains the matter of what Samantha will live on during her time of service. It is to be hoped, of course, that this new group will in due course find a reliable source of support for its members; but until that occurs I would like to propose that each of our households – you and Emma, Aemelia and Michael, Timothy, and myself (we shall presumably have to leave Desmond out of this) – each_ _contribute 6s. 6p._ _per week._ _£1 5s. 4p. ought to be_ _quite_ _enough to see a girl of her age through an average week, and perhaps even allow her to build up a 'nest egg' for the future._

 _As Samantha's father, the final decision in this matter must of course rest with you, particularly as she is still a minor. I hope, however that you will see that it would be better to act now than to wait for Providence, Divine or otherwise, to take its course._

 _Please give my very best regards to both Samantha and Emma. Whatever action you take, I remain,_

 _Your affectionate and dutiful brother,_

 _Aubrey Stewart_

* * *

 **Author's notes:**  
Desmond Stewart is paraphrasing a _Times_ account of the Archbishop's sermon at Westminster Abbey on October 1st, 1939. In his third paragraph he invokes (though he does not actually quote) a phrase that appears several times in Proverbs 31.

Timothy Stewart refers to the incident described in Judges 4 along with examples from both modern and ancient British history.

Resy Peake (née Countess Sophie Thérèse Ghislaine Marie de Baillet-Latour) was born in Brussels in 1908. She and her family took refuge in Britain during the First World War; as an adolescent she divided her time between Belgium and England. She joined the Mechanised Transport Training Corps at the beginning of World War II and became the personal staff officer to the founding Corps Commandant, Mrs. Cook, whom she succeeded in April 1942. She died in 1994; most of the information in this paragraph comes from her obituary in _The Times_ (December 8th, 1994, p. 23).


	4. Chapter 4

Friday, 13 October 1939

 _Didn't have time to write about this last night – met M.T.T.C. officer yesterday in Littlehampton, had very good talk with her, though felt like Mother did most of the talking – seemed to take liking to her and bought her tea! M now apparently thinks M.T.T.C. would be good thing for me to do._ _Very_ _puzzled about how M's mind works, but perhaps should not worry about it and just be grateful._

 _Later – Met postman myself this afternoon - good timing. Letter for Dad addressed in Uncle Aubrey's hand, amongst other things. Also, very bad news in parish – choir disbanded until farther notice as not enough people to sing, especially men (called up, volunteered, etc.)._

 _Quite late – Just occurred to me that this was first time since war began that 13_ _th_ _of the month has fallen on Friday. Seem to have got through day fairly well._

* * *

Saturday, 14 October 1939

 _Article in_ _Times_ _today about factories in London (or close to London – writer was very vague, probably on purpose) making uniforms for Army and other branches – almost all workers girls, but apparently not in the forces themselves. Not what I want to do for war effort. Dad says I am spending too much time reading newspaper - just makes me worry about things over which I've no control. Not first time he has told me this. Have to admit can't say he is wrong but can't seem to take anything else in at present. He said to try Ecclesiastes – will do this tomorrow. He was_ _quite_ _upset about another_ _Times_ _item, though – next year's Lambeth Conference cancelled._

 _Later – Drove into village this afternoon to buy food for next week, found shelves at grocer's rather bare. Same at greengrocer, fruit monger, etc. Grocer says people are hoarding tinned goods and anything preservable against likelihood of food rationing! Tried in Wick, not much better luck, grocer there said same thing. (Called this_ _a_ _vicious __circle_ _– must remember to look this up.)_

* * *

Sunday, 15 October 1939

 _First Sunday with no choir – very depressing, and just nineteen people at Matins._

 _Later – Took Dad's advice, read entire Book of Ecclesiastes after lunch. Nice and short (though not as short as Joel). Noted in particular 3:1-8, about there being a time for everything, especially bit from second verse about '_ _a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted.'_

 _From_ _Times_ _: British Expeditionary Force in France actually larger than in 1914, also better armed and more modern, naturally, but of course so are German forces. We've lost another battleship, HMS_ _Royal __Oak_ _– torpedoed off Orkney by u-boat very late last night, paper says. Wireless this evening says just 414 survivors out of about 1,200 on board._

 _Dad quite worried, I think._

* * *

Monday, 16 October 1939

 _Upsetting letter in_ _Times_ _today from_ _British __subject_ _traveling to Australia – luggage searched at customs,_ _all_ _printed matter seized! Books, newspaper clippings,_ _everything_ _! Agree with letter-writer it's a bit_ _much_ _! Would be_ _very_ _bad if war leads to government always being suspicious of everybody and everybody always being suspicious of everybody else._

 _Later – Uncle Desmond telephoned! Said he couldn't tell us where he is or where his regiment is being sent, but quite safe. (Not that he doesn't_ _know_ _where he is, of course – just isn't_ _allowed_ _to tell us, and perhaps doesn't actually know yet where they'll go.)_

 _Quite late – wireless reports German attack this afternoon on bridge over Firth of Forth, near Edinburgh – first German air attack on Britain since last war. Mother and Dad both quite upset, but M gave me Meaningful Look when Dad said that this is a turning point. Did not say turning point in_ _what_ _, though. Attack would have happened just before we heard from Uncle D – wondering now if he was near by._

* * *

Tuesday, 17 October 1939

 _Times_ _reports no serious damage done in attack yesterday, but fifteen dead, twelve wounded, all seriously._

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'Samantha.'

'Yes, Dad?'

'Come in and sit down, won't you? There's something we need to discuss.'

Being summoned to her father's study generally means that Sam is about to be told what she ought to be doing, or what she is doing wrong. But his voice sounds different this time, and she notices that he is _asking_ her, not instructing her, to enter the room.

'Your mother has been telling me about this new women's brigade,' he says. The copy of the M.T.T.C. recruitment brochure that Mrs Peake gave her mother is on his desk. Sam sees to her surprise that her mother is also in the study, sitting close to the fire. She can't remember ever having seen her mother in this room before. _The war_ , she thinks, _is going to make everything topsy-turvy._

'I'm not sure "brigade" is quite the right word, Dad,' Sam replies. 'It's just civil defence, after all.'

'Nevertheless, they do seem to have been organised in order to fulfill a specific need in a purposeful manner, and to be run somewhat along military lines' says Mr. Stewart. 'That sounds to me very much like a brigade. In any case, if it were to become necessary for you to present yourself for national service, your mother and I believe that this would be the best place for you.'

'But,' says Sam hesitantly, after a moment, 'it isn't necessary, is it?'

'There could be some advantage, Samantha, in volunteering,' Sam's mother puts in. 'If you wait for conscription, the authourities, who do not know you and value you as we do, will make the decision as to what service you perform.'

 _Well, really_ , Sam thinks, fighting down a spasm of annoyance, _isn't that just what I tried to say to her more than a month ago – that I ought to join up now, rather than waiting?_

'Do you _want_ to volunteer, Samantha?' Mrs Stewart goes on.

'Well, yes, I think that I _ought_ to,' Sam begins. 'Dad advised me to read Ecclesiastes a few days ago. I did that -'

'I am glad to hear it,' Mr Stewart puts in.

'- and I noticed one verse in particular: "a time to pluck up that which is planted."'

'That is not the _entire_ verse, Samantha, I believe.'

'But the _point_ is, I've been planted _here_ , and perhaps, with the war, it's time now for me to pluck myself up, at least for a while. I _should_ have to go away, though,' Sam points out. _It won't do any good not to face facts_ , she thinks. 'Who will look after you when you're ill, mother?'

'Perhaps it's time that I learned to look after myself. I've started to wonder whether having you about to care for me makes me think that I must be ill when in fact I'm not – a vicious circle of sorts.'

Mr. Stewart turns and looks at his wife affectionately, then turns back to Sam.

'The question of your leaving home is of great concern to both your mother and myself. Your mother says that you and she have spoken with an official of this group,' he says, tapping his finger on the brochure, 'who told you that they have made securing appropriate accommodation for their members a matter of highest concern. This being the case,' he goes on, 'I will give my consent to your enlistment in this organisation on several conditions. First, you are to remain on the south coast – Brighton or, failing that, Hastings. Second, I have made some inquiries, and it appears possible that some of these women will be sent to France in the near future.'

'They'd be utterly _mad_ to pick _me_ for that. I know only a few words of French,' Sam puts in.

'Be that as it may, you are under no circumstances to accept such an assignment. Third, when hostilities cease, you are immediately to resign and return here. Finally, in the event that we _are_ still at war at the end of next summer I will travel to see you wherever you are posted at that time. We will evaluate your situation and if it is unsatisfactory you will resign and return home.'

'I'll turn twenty-one at the end of next August, Dad,' Sam reminds her father.

'I intend to visit you before that occurs. Now, I believe there is some form that I must sign in order to make my consent official. Do you have it?'

'Yes. I haven't filled it in yet, though.'

'Please do so at once, and then bring it to me so that I can sign it.'

Sam does not move or speak immediately. She is, she realises to her mild dismay, weeping.

'Thank you, Dad,' she says at last, very softly. 'Thank you both.' Then she clears her throat and asks, 'What is a vicious circle?'

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

 **MECHANISED TRANSPORT TRAINING CORPS**

APPLICATION FOR ENLISTMENT

 **Instructions to the Applicant** : Please fill in this form and return it to our Headquarters, 33, Leinster Gardens, London, W.2. By signing this form the applicant certifies that all information set forth below is true to the best of her knowledge and that she is aware that all M.T.T.C. personnel must pay their own expenses. Any applicant who is not yet 21 years of age and is not presently married is reminded that this form must be signed by her father, mother (if father is absent) or legal guardian as well as by herself.

Name of Applicant (Surname, Full Christian name): _Stewart, Samantha Aemelia  
_ Permanent home address: _The Old Vicarage, Lyminster, West Sussex  
_ Current postal address: _same as given above_  
Current until:  
Date of birth: _31 August 1919  
_ Applying for  full-time / part-time enlistment  
Marital status: Spinster / Married / Widowed / Divorced  
Number and ages of children: _none_

Driving license no.: _106022  
_ Issued originally on _31 August 1937_ at _Winchester, Hants  
_ Issued most recently on _30 August 1939_ at _Chichester, W. Sussex  
_ Do you own a motor vehicle? Yes/No If so, please specify manufacturer, model, year and the approximate mileage as of the date of this application:

Please place a tick-mark by any of the following types of vehicles that you have experience operating:

Ambulance  
_Coach  
_Fire-fighting engine  
_Jeep  
_Lorry  
_Mobile canteen  
√Passenger car  
_Van

Signature of Applicant: _Samantha Stewart_ Date signed: _17 October 1939_

For applicants not yet 21 years of age:  
Signature of Applicant's father, mother or legal guardian (please specify): _Iain Stewart_  
Please print full name: Iain Stewart  
Date signed: _17 October 1939  
Signed by me with the stipulation that my daughter will be assigned to an area command on the southern coast of England and that she will at no time be transferred to overseas duty. I.S._

* * *

Wednesday, 18 October 1939

 _Dad signed M.T.T.C. enlistment application yesterday. Now in hands of Royal Mail. Mother persuaded him that it's a good idea – think he really thinks it's the least of all possible evils, but still consider this as miraculous. Will write to Aunt A, Uncle M, Uncle A, etc._

 _Much news in_ _Times_ _, including large number of air raid warnings given yesterday along East Coast though no bombs dropped and no shots fired. Also that four civilians were injured in attack on Firth of Forth, not seriously but including two women. Am hoping Dad does not notice this._

* * *

 **MECHANISED TRANSPORT TRAINING CORPS  
** HEADQUARTERS  
33, Leinster Gardens  
London, W2

19 October 1939

Miss Samantha Stewart  
The Vicarage  
Lyminster  
West Sussex

Dear Miss Stewart:

It was a pleasure to have met you and your mother during my tour of the South Coast last week. Your application for enlistment in the Mechanised Transport Training Corps has been received here and will be acted upon shortly. It is the prerogative of Mrs G.M. Cook, Corps Commandant, to do this; just as I spent last week seeking recruits along the South Coast, she is doing the same this week in the North, and is expected back at Headquarters on Monday morning. I have spoken with her by telephone today, and she has agreed to allow my conversation with you last week to serve in place of the interview that we normally require.

I should tell you that the Hastings Area Command that I mentioned last week will become active before the end of this month and it is more than likely that you will be posted there.

Yours sincerely,

 _Resy Peake  
_ Mrs Resy Peake  
Personal Staff Officer to the Corps Commandant

RP:pb

* * *

The Vicarage  
Lyminster, West Sussex

 _20 October 1939_

 _Dear Aunt Amy and Uncle Michael,_

 _I am writing to tell you that Dad signed my M.T.T.C. enlistment application and I have sent it to their headquarters. I can't even_ _begin_ _to tell you how grateful I am for your kindness._

 _You were quite right that the key was to persuade Mother that this would be a good thing! We spent an afternoon in Littlehampton last week while Dad was at his deanery meeting. While we were there we met a lady called Mrs Peake who is apparently rather high up in the M.T.T.C. (she was handing out recruitment brochures), and I'm not quite sure what happened, but Mother now seems to have decided that it would be all right for me to join them. I suppose after that she began working on Dad._ _ _She says that she will care for herself when she feels unwell._ In any case I heard from Mrs Peake today and she seems to think that I will be joining them very soon._

 _But I am quite sure that none of this would have happened without you! Thank you again, from the bottom of my heart. I was wondering if either of you might have any advice to offer, as this will be my first time away from home without either Dad or Mother._

 _Best love always,_

 _Sam_

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The Vicarage  
Lyminster, West Sussex

 _20 October 1939_

 _Dear Uncle Aubrey,_

 _You may have heard by now that Dad has agreed that I should join the Mechanised Transport Training Corps for the duration, or at least through next summer (and after that we'll see). I know that you helped to persuade him that I ought to do this, especially with regard to certain practical matters, and I am writing to tell you how grateful I am. I haven't yet heard definitely from M.T.T.C. Headquarters, but whatever the outcome I will try to make the whole family proud._

 _Please remember me to everyone in Leavenham._

 _Your affectionate and dutiful niece,_

 _Samantha Stewart_

* * *

 **MECHANISED TRANSPORT TRAINING CORPS  
** HEADQUARTERS  
33, Leinster Gardens  
London, W2

23 October 1939

Miss Samantha Stewart  
The Vicarage  
Lyminster  
West Sussex

Dear Miss Stewart:

This letter will serve to inform you that you are hereby enlisted in the Mechanised Transport Training Corps, effective Monday, 30 October 1939, at the rank of Driver. You are to report for duty at the Hastings Area Command, 21 South Terrace, no later than 8.30 on the aforementioned date. Your Area Commander is Mrs. K.E. Bradley.

You will be billeted initially at 2 Elms Road, Hastings, in c/o Mrs. Esther Harrison, at a rental of 7s. per week, breakfast and supper included. Your first week's rental will be due on arrival.

Please arrive for duty attired in an overall, or work trousers and blouse, with kerchief, in khaki or drab. You will be measured for your Corps duty uniform at that time, and should be prepared to provide full payment of £14.

I congratulate you on your desire to serve our nation's cause in this difficult hour, and am happy to welcome you as you join us in our mission.

Sincerely,

 _G. M. Cook  
_ Mrs G.M. Cook  
Corps Commandant

GMC:pb

* * *

Tuesday 24 October 1939

 _Letter arrived today from M.T.T.C. headquarters – I am enlisted as a Driver and have been given instructions. Mother making lists of things for me to pack. Must be in Hastings by Monday. Rental higher than I expected but will find a way to make do._

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Braithfield Farm  
Fullerton Road  
Red Rice, Andover, Hampshire

 _24 October 1939_

 _My dear Sam,_

 _It was most gratifying to receive your letter. Please do not be too quick assign the responsibility for this accomplishment to me or anyone else. It was_ _your_ _determination, perseverance and patience that brought this about._

 _I fear that I don't have much advice to offer. Like you, I have never lived independently. In my day being the black sheep of the family didn't extend quite_ _that_ _far, certainly not for a bishop's daughter! The only advice that I can think of is that if any person you encounter makes you feel uneasy, you should avoid his company as much as possible – or_ _her_ _company, for that matter. If the source of your unease should refuse to be avoided, alert the police immediately. That said, I feel certain that the adventure that you are about to begin will bring you the opportunity to forge bonds that will last for the rest of your life – so don't be shy around the people you will meet in the coming months! Of course I know that you'll have no trouble at all with either of those suggestions._

 _Do please keep in touch, and let us know how you progress._

 _With every good wish, I am, your doting aunt,_

 _Amy Braithwaite_

 _My dear young Sam,_

 _Your aunt has graciously left some space open for me to join her in wishing you Godspeed. We are both tremendously proud of you, and have no doubt that you will do yourself proud as well._

 _I have three pieces of advice for you, in no particular order of importance:  
1\. Never accept a billet without inspecting it first. If it includes board, try to get a look at the kitchen as well.  
2\. When you meet your commanding officer, begin with the assumption that she is not an idiot. If she does prove to be an idiot, the best thing to do is to keep your nose down, do your bit without calling unwelcome attention to yourself, and keep an eye out for an opportunity to get a new posting.  
3\. As a good general rule, try to avoid the company of officers, who tend to be a pretty creepy bunch when one comes right down to it. (I speak from experience, of course, having been one myself for 20 years.)_

 _Like Amy, I hope that you keep us informed of your exploits._

 _Your fond uncle,_

 _Michael Braithwaite_

 _Sam, dear – I couldn't help seeing what your uncle has written above. His third point is surely meant in jest. If I'd followed that rule I'd have found neither first husband nor second! I think that I had better seal this in its envelope at once, before any other mischief-maker gets hold of it. _

_All best, A.B._

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The Vicarage  
Leavenham, Hampshire

 _24 October 1939_

 _My dear Samantha,_

 _Your letter arrived in this morning's post. (Two months ago, it would have been here yesterday!) There is no need at all to thank me. The process of working out my views on the part you might play in the war effort was really quite edifying. I am very glad that you and your dear parents have been able to come to an accommodation regarding your immediate future and am hopeful that the adventure you are about to begin will prove satisfactory to you. I am not_ _too_ _worried about you, as I know how well you have been brought up, and of course the prayers of our entire family will support you wherever you go._

 _I have not visited Hastings in many years. Do write and tell me about it, and of course keep me informed of your progress._

 _Your affectionate uncle,_

 _Aubrey Stewart_

* * *

28 OCTOBER 1939

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

POST OFFICE  
TELEGRAM

264 3.35 HASTINGS B 19

THE REV & MRS I STEWART VICARAGE LYMINSTER WEST SUSSEX

ARRIVED HASTINGS BILLET AREA COMMAND & CHURCH LOCATED ALL WELL LETTER FOLLOWS

LOVE SAM

* * *

30 OCTOBER 1939

The M.T.T.C.'s Hastings Area Command is housed in a vast brick structure that was once home to the Hastings and St-Leonards-on-Sea Electric Light Company. One of the other girls at Sam's billet describes it as a crumbling pile; to Sam, who has never seen such a building before, it looks like a fortified castle.

The interior, though, is a shock. The noise is dreadful. There are cars everywhere, of all kinds: ambulances, vans, canteen trucks, a coach and ordinary passenger vehicles, all having various sorts of work done on them, and all of the work being done by girls and women, ranging from girls younger than Sam to several who are well past youth. They are all using tools that Sam has never seen before, including a vicious-looking thing that shoots out showers of sparks.

 _ **I**_ _am going to learn to do these things_ , Sam thinks.

At first nobody seems to be in charge of the place; but then Sam sees that one woman is wearing not an overall but the same uniform that she and her mother saw on Mrs. Peake. She is almost a head shorter than Sam and seems to be made up entirely of lumps, some almost spherical, others less so.

Sam approaches cautiously. The woman is upbraiding a thin, pale, terrified-looking girl over some error or other.

'Excuse me,' she ventures, when the woman seems to have finished venting her spleen. 'Good morning. Mrs Bradley?'

'Well, who else _would_ I be, then? What do _you_ want?'

Sam stands at attention and salutes, trying to remember how she has seen servicemen do this.

'Driver Samantha Stewart, ma'am, reporting for duty.'

 _FINIS_

* * *

 **Author's notes** :

Millions of people around the world who think that they know nothing about the Hebrew Bible are, in fact, very familiar with the passage from Ecclesiastes that catches Sam's attention. In the 1950s it provided the American folk singer Pete Seeger with the structure, and most of the text, of his song "Turn! Turn! Turn!"

The conscription of women into war service in the United Kingdom did not begin until the end of 1941. Some women were assigned to the M.T.C. upon being called up.

M.T.C. personnel - mostly ambulance drivers - were active in France beginning in January 1940; two were briefly taken prisoner after Axis forces invaded the country later that year.

M.T.C. personnel were ranked as follows, in ascending order: Other Ranks (i.e., enlisted personnel) – Driver, Cadet Officer, Section Cadet Officer, Company Cadet Officer; Officers – Ensign, Lieutenant, Captain, Commander, Commandant, Senior Commandant, Corps Commandant.


End file.
